that day even the sun was afraid of you and the weight you carried
He never could understand why their conversations always turned this way. No matter how kind it starts, how innocent, somehow they are dry kindling and every spare word is a match. They misunderstand each other. They understand too much. They poke and jab until they get a reaction. They irritate and inflame and infuriate until the most genial of conversations is nothing more than a heated argument.
It’s enough to dig into the celestial haze Firion had been in—bringing him to the surface. Bringing all of him gasping for air, his chest nearly heaving with the sudden life that pours into his open lungs. But the relief of it does not overshadow the fury that spreads through him like wildfire. The shadows that twist and dance around him of their own accord, the thunderous boom that claps in the sky.
“So you just give up?” he snarls, knowing his anger isn’t directed at her but punting it there anyway. “You decide to stay with him and let him continue?” He is blind with his fury and anger and a senseless need to do something and yet feeling hobbled by it. He doesn’t understand the blankness in her eyes sometimes or the feeling that something is so very wrong. What had she meant that he had removed everything that had made her her? Her words come screaming back to him until his mind spins endlessly.
She steps toward him as he shifts and something in the widening of her eyes is like the old Mazikeen. The young girl he had driven away the first time they had met. Would things be different if he had let her stay? If he had accepted her friendship instead of doing his best to frighten her off? Guilt gnaws at him.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly and his guard drops just slightly, gold eyes blinking at her.
“Would it have?” he asks, wondering if his vulnerability would be enough to bring her back.
so you saluted every ghost you've ever prayed to and then buried it where bones are buried
@Mazikeen